


Conversations with Bats

by blue3ski



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Anya is bat mom, Bartok enters the Glenya Multiverse, F/M, Gleb is a bat dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue3ski/pseuds/blue3ski
Summary: Being part of this strange family with her, pretending she was his in their little game… He didn’t know when it had begun, but it had stopped being a lie. He wanted – needed – it to be real.Fluffvember contribution!





	1. Chapter 1

“There are two kinds of secrets: Those that hide deceit and crooked ways, and those that hide buried treasure and amazing surprises.” – _Eric Ludy, When Dreams Come True_

* * *

 

Gleb was about to reach a breaking point.

“What am I going to do, Bartok?” he asked.

His pet bat stretched from where he was hanging over the kitchen counter, blinking beady black eyes as though considering the question.

“Do I even tell her?” Gleb sighed. “I can’t.”

Bartok squeaked loudly.

“I can’t just say it,” Gleb responded. “She’s only here because of you.”

It was now nearly two months to the day Anya caught Gleb with Bartok. Nearly two months to the day she insisted on daily visits to see the little critter Gleb had found half-frozen on the streets of Leningrad one winter day and was trying to nurse back to health. Nearly two months to the day he had, seeing the bond between Bartok and Anya, foolishly suggested that she might as well stay with him since she was helping him take care of the bat anyway.

The last one had been the subject of much talk. Gleb was aware he had already been caught letting Anya into his flat – that much the secretaries had made clear when he overheard their gossip about the deputy commissioner taking a lover from the streets. Their disdain and dismissiveness of Anya as a street sweeper rankled with him, and he had to bite his tongue often to keep from retorting. But Anya had latched onto the idea and pointed out to him that it was the perfect cover for what they were doing.

“All they can do is talk,” she’d said. “Bartok can’t hear them anyway. And he needs me.”

So Gleb let it happen, let the rumors simmer and intensify. He hadn’t accounted for just how much they would worm into his heart.

He’d always liked Anya, from the moment he met her – this beautiful, hardworking girl who could be a “maybe”in his future _._ But having her so close by in his house every day had made things progressively worse – with each routine they developed together, with each purposefully exaggerated show of affection they made to feed the gossip when they caught sight of one of Gleb’s subordinates prowling about, with each conversation that went beyond bat care and into each other’s lives - two survivors trying to survive in the new world in their own ways.

Being part of this strange family with her, pretending she was his in their little game… He didn’t know when it had begun, but it had stopped being a lie. He wanted –  _needed_  – it to be real.

Gleb shook his head, trying to clear it. “I don’t have to ruin this. We’re doing fine, aren’t we?” he implored. Bartok turned his head one way, then another.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Gleb grumbled. “I’m trying not to be stupid, Bartok. If she finds out and she leaves, you’re not going to have a mama anymore.”

Bartok buried his face in his wing, squirming, and Gleb ran a calming hand along the bat’s white fur.

“See, even you can’t imagine that.”

Bartok glared at him from under his wing, as though exasperated.

“What? You’re not helping.” Gleb protested.

Bartok squeaked as he smacked a wing into his little pink face.

“ _You_  tell her then if it’s that easy,” Gleb groused.

“Tell who what?” Anya mumbled sleepily from behind him, and he jumped as Bartok chirped happily.

She reached around Gleb for a glass and filled it with water. As she drank, she blinked at him.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, and felt a wing hit him in the back of the head.

Anya raised her eyebrows and looked to Bartok. “I don’t think he’s telling the truth, is he, little guy?”

Bartok cocked his head to one side.

“I thought so.” Her tone grew serious as she put her glass down and bit her lip. Gleb stiffened, sensing that she was about to say something he wouldn’t want to hear.

There was a heavy pause as she took a deep breath and her expression went from sleepy to smooth and blank. “Gleb, I know it’s me.”

He spluttered, but she continued on as though she hadn’t noticed. “I know it hasn’t been easy having me here. When you adopted Bartok, I know you didn’t expect me to be a part of this too.”

She sounded stiff and detached, as though she was reading a prepared speech, and she was looking everywhere but at him as she spoke. “This…arrangement, I know we agreed that it was convenient for Bartok. But maybe we shouldn’t keep it up anymore.”

Gleb felt his heart sink like a stone, and he looked down at the floor. A small part of him was dimly relieved he didn’t listen to the bat and say anything first. That would have been worse.

“It’s not convenient for…us.” Anya’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m not very good at pretending.”

His head snapped up at the same time his heart jumped into his throat. The cool mask she had been wearing was gone, replaced with frustration, and her face was reddening rapidly. She was fidgeting with the dressing gown he’d gotten her after she moved in and muttering something under her breath that sounded vaguely like, “curse you, Bartok.”

He couldn’t assume she meant what he hoped she meant, but there was only one way to find out. She was leaving either way…he had nothing left to lose.

He took a step towards her and, taking care to be slow enough to give her time to react, slipped a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his. Her eyes, such an interesting blue, widened, and her breath hitched.

It was the lightest press of mouth to mouth, like a soft touch. He didn’t linger, pulling back almost immediately as his head swam with the sensation.

Anya stared at him, frozen in place and looking confused. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Bartok had gone still and was watching her intently.

“I’m not good at pretending either,” Gleb confessed.

She released a shaky breath. “Good. Because I don’t want to. Anymore.”

“Neither do I.” He could feel his ears burning as he straightened up.

“What happens now?” she asked hesitantly, face pink as she clutched the dressing gown tighter around her.

“You could marry me,” he blurted out.

Anya blinked at him. “ _What?_ ”

As his statement sank in, Gleb wished he could bludgeon himself with some heavy object.

“I shouldn’t have said that – please forget I said that,” he babbled, desperately begging his brain to start working again. “I don’t know why I said that – that was stupid –”

Bartok looked from one of his parents to the other, his naturally grumpy face seeming even surlier now.

“Bartok, be patient. It’s strange when it’s real,” Anya finally said, looking embarrassed, while Gleb continued to wish the ceiling would collapse on him.

She moved just a little closer to him, and Gleb felt blood rush to his head again. “Do you honestly want me to forget what you said?” she asked sweetly.

“I – what?” His ability to form words seemed to have gone on leave with his common sense.

The flush on her cheeks deepened. “Because I could…agree to that.”

“You could?” he responded dumbly as a roaring started in his ears.

“I could.” She was barely suppressing a grin now, her eyes sparkling. “I mean, I expected better of a marriage proposal, but –”

He didn’t let her finish the sentence, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her again, more firmly and insistently this time. Her hand settled on the back of his neck, and he felt her smile.

Words were overrated anyway.

There was a loud squeak, and they both turned to see Bartok swaying in excitement on his perch, ears perked up.

Gleb’s lips twitched as he tried to fight back a burst of laughter welling up inside him. “We’re not doing this in front of you,” he said smugly.

With a rustle, Bartok opened his wings and soared off his perch. Gleb felt a wing clip the top of his head, and Anya started laughing as Gleb glowered in Bartok’s general direction.

As Gleb squinted to see where his pet had flown off to, he felt slim fingers run along his jawline, turning his face back. He was met with soft lips against the corner of his mouth, and all thoughts of the bat flew from his mind.

If Bartok came back at any point, neither of them had a clue.  


	2. Cut Scene: How Bartok Met His Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was going to be included in the prompt fill itself but it didn't quite fit. But since it was written and conceptualized already, I figured it might as well be shared!
> 
> Thanks to espressomartini and Colorblindcity for the ideas that spawned this!

Gleb pushed his hands deeper into his coat pockets as he plowed through the snow to get to the government office.

The winter winds were blowing particularly harshly on the Nevsky Prospekt that morning. He was barely keeping his teeth from chattering, and his face stung with the intensity of the cold.

So focused was he on getting to the warmth of the indoors that he just barely heard the soft, high-pitched cry.

Gleb stopped in his tracks. Was the wind playing tricks on his hearing? He glanced around, trying to see what had made that noise. But there was nothing.

Shivering, Gleb ducked his head and continued on his way. But he hadn’t gone two steps before the wailing started again. It was a little louder this time, and more insistent.

Gleb hesitated. It was numbingly cold, and his body was screaming for relief. But it was also his responsibility to investigate that sound. It might be someone in trouble.

He took a step backwards, and the heel of his boot hit a snowdrift. Icy gray-white clumps tumbled to the ground, along with a small ball of pure white fur. It might have gone unnoticed by a less observant passerby, but Gleb’s job was to observe.

He knelt down by the quivering lump, which was making the keening cries he had been hearing. Tentatively, he withdrew a hand from his pocket to lightly poke it.

As his finger met fuzz, a pair of beady black eyes glared reproachfully at him. Large pink ears twitched, and he could see the fleshy wings folded along the side of the small body.

Bat. A young one, from its size.

He ought to leave it. There was no telling where it had come from. It could be hosting all manner of diseases. And perhaps it had a mother somewhere.

He stood and straightened up. The bat’s crying intensified.

“Hush,” he shot back. “Your mama will worry if she finds you gone.”

Excellent. Now he was talking to animals. As though he didn’t have enough mental issues to be dealing with.  

The bat looked up at him. There was frost on its pink face. It would not last long in this cold.

Gleb was going to regret this.

Bending down again, he slowly extended his hand, hoping it would not go rabid. The bat whined, but was otherwise still. Carefully, he scooped it up, and it wriggled into the warmth of his gloved hand immediately.

This was a terrible idea. It would grow attached, and that was the last thing he needed. Attachments were always unwise for a man of his position in these uneasy times.

The bat almost slipped off his hand – instinctively, he supported it with his other hand. The bat seemed pleased with the additional warmth and space as he cupped it against his chest.

Standing still for too long was causing the cold to dig into his bones, and Gleb stomped his feet to get some circulation going. There was a loud crunch, and he looked down.

He’d found the bat’s mother.

She was stiff and frozen, her sightless eyes staring at nothing. Her wing had snapped off underneath his shoe, and he hurriedly pulled his foot back.

The young bat whined again, softly. Horrified and guilty, Gleb nudged its mother’s body to the side with his boot to keep the rest of her from being trodden upon.

He couldn’t leave the poor critter now. He would have to hide it very carefully – the secretaries would not take kindly to the presence of a bat – a baby one or otherwise – in the headquarters. Gleb adjusted the bat’s position in order to free up one of his hands and removed the pistol from the inside pocket of his overcoat. Stuffing the gun into his trouser pocket, he slipped the animal into the newly freed-up space, shivering involuntarily with how cold it felt against his heart as it clung to the fabric.

He could spare some kindness for now. But once the weather cleared up, it was on its own.

* * *

Anya was trying to keep her hands from shaking.

She had been stopped by the soldiers as she was heading to the Nevsky Prospekt to sweep. The deputy commissioner wished to speak to her, they had said coldly, their faces stone-like, and whatever was left of her blood that wasn’t already frozen by the wind had turned to ice.

The deputy commissioner wasn’t in yet, so she was being forced to wait, cowering under the disapproving stares of the secretaries and the other soldiers. Part of her was relieved to be out of the infernal weather and in the warmth of the government building. But the rest of her was reeling with panic at being discovered. She couldn’t even warn Vlad and Dmitry.

The front door opened, and a tall man stepped through. Her breath caught. She knew him. It was the officer she had encountered a few months ago, when she’d had one of her panic attacks. A small seed of hope blossomed in her heart. He had been kind to her then – perhaps he would show her mercy again.

One of the soldiers approached him, and she saw his head turn toward her. She glimpsed what she hoped was a flash of recognition in his eyes.

He nodded curtly at the soldier, his face stern. Then he strode past her, without even a glance, to the office at the end of the hall.

Anya’s heart sank.

“He’ll see you now,” the soldier said in a clipped tone as he walked up and grasped her arm to march her to the room. As they entered, the deputy commissioner’s back was to her, stiff and unfriendly. The soldier exited, closing the door with a click, and she trembled.

“It’s a remarkable city, our Leningrad,” the deputy commissioner intoned from where he stood. “All those people down there, coming and going, creating a future for themselves. I stand at this window for hours, admiring them, and wondering why a few bad apples are getting up to mischief instead.” His shoulders twitched, and she flinched.

“I can see all the way to the old Yusupov Palace,” he continued. “Funny business going on there. Counterrevolutionary behavior, some would say.” His shoulders twitched again.

Anya summoned her courage, deciding to play the innocent. “Why was I brought here?” she demanded.

“I thought you could tell me, comrade,” he said coolly as he finally faced her. “Anya, am I right?”

She nodded, and he extended his hand. “I’m Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov.” His face was pink, and amidst her fear, she wondered why he was keeping his overcoat on in the heated office.

“You’re shivering again,” he commented as she shook his hand. “A friendly cup of tea will warm us both up.”

He turned to head towards his desk, one hand clamped over the front of his coat.

“What is the charge?” she ventured.

“There is no charge – why should there be?” he responded. He turned to eye her critically. “You have a job, food on the table, a place in the new order of things.”

“I’m very thankful,” she assured him as she sat gingerly on the edge of the chair before his desk.

“Which is why I’m warning you to leave your world of make-believe,” he said as he picked up the kettle to pour some tea into a mug. She blinked – did the front of his overcoat just move?

“I don’t understand,” she replied, puzzled, as she stared. The deputy commissioner cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you really were who you were pretending to be, they would kill you. Without hesitation,” he answered firmly.

She glanced away. “Everyone imagines being someone else. I’m no different. It’s an innocent enough fantasy.”

“No, Anya. A dangerous one,” he snapped as he placed the mug of tea in front of her. “The Romanovs are gone. Every last one of them. They no longer exist.”

He paused. “My father was one of the guards.”

“I don’t want to hear this –” she protested.

“I heard the shots. I heard the screams,” the deputy commissioner continued somberly. “But it’s the silence after I remember the most.”

He broke off, letting the weight of the statement sink in. Suddenly, there was a loud, high-pitched wail.

“What was that?” she inquired. It did not sound human…

The deputy commissioner groaned. “Excuse me.” He began to undo his coat.

Anya felt heat rising to her face, and she stood quickly. “Should I…leave?”

“No!” he yelped, sounding worried, and she sat back down. “But you mustn’t tell anyone what you see.”

She nodded, and from the pocket of the coat, he took out what looked like a small ball of white fluff that was squeaking incessantly.

“It’s alright,” he muttered quietly to it, stroking it with one finger. He glanced nervously at her.

“What is that?” she asked again, feeling her worry drain away.

In response, he laid the furry ball on the desk, and Anya’s jaw fell open as she took in the small black eyes, large pink ears, and flesh-colored wings.

“You have a pet bat?” she blurted out in awe. “What’s his name?”

The deputy commissioner had gone red now. “I don’t – he’s not – I just –”

The little baby bat was looking at her curiously. Charmed, she held a hand out. Stretching his wings, he pulled himself along the table until his fur touched the tips of her fingers. Slowly, she ran her index finger along his side, and he leaned into her touch.

“He’s precious,“ she remarked, looking up at the bat’s master, who suddenly seemed much less intimidating.

“Bartok,” the deputy commissioner – Gleb – finally said. “His name is Bartok.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the prompt "we were pretending to be lovers but I’m not pretending anymore and I have to know if you feel the same way" for my sweet child espressomartini! *squish*


End file.
